


𝕲𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕭𝖔𝖎𝖘 𝕴𝖓𝖈.

by asheislost (Ash_Wings24)



Category: Minecraft youtube, Sleepy Bois Inc, mcyt
Genre: AU, Brother Tubbo and Tommy, Brothers Wilbur and Techno, Found Family, Gen, Ghost Bois Inc, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Wings24/pseuds/asheislost
Summary: 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔪. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔶𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫'𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢.Please refrain from talking to the CC's about this AU.@theghostboisinc on Tumblr for more in depth lore and artwork.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 110





	1. ᔕTOᑎE ᔕTᑌᑕK Iᑎ ᗩ ᔕTᖇEᗩᗰ

The gravel path rubbles with each shake of the wheels. Ms. Kilo parked in front, turning off the car and helping her sons unpack. 

Thomas looked at the house; shabby and broken. Still, it was a place all to their own. In the middle of the woods. It felt like a horror movie setup.

Toby lugged his bags inside, followed by Thomas who led an excited mutt. Ms. Kilo hugged them both, proud to see them have grown.

“Thank you for everything, Mum,” Toby smiled, noticing Thomas’s disgusted groan.

“Yes, thank you, Ms. Kilo.”

“Of course boys. If you need anything, give me a call. I’ll look forward to seeing you kids, soon,” She patted their backs, starting the car up, and leaving the old gravel path empty.

“We’re on our own, now.” Thomas chuckled, opening the creaking front door.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper,” Toby sighed, setting his bags in the front room. Thomas did the same, unhooking Betty’s leash. She ran off, wagging her tail curiously.

“I call dibs on masters!” 

“No!” Toby raced after him, following him to the first of three bedroom. This was the only one on the first story, and was right next to the stairs. The wallpaper was pink with little pigs, and there were swords hanging on walls.

A large window let in sunlight from in between trees, shining on a dusty floor mirror in front of a cushion. There was a wooden slab covered with a cloth. On top we’re crystals and candles, some knives, and a wine cup. 

On the other side of the room, there was a large, queen-size bed covered with pink sheets and white pillows. Small plush animals were lined up politely by the wall, in order from smallest to largest. The bed was made. 

A canopy and some dreamcatchers hung from the ceiling, giving the room a comfortable vibe. The room was well lived in, but not messy. There was an empty mug on the nightstand and a crown next to a photo on the dresser.

It was three guys, a blonde and two brunettes, holding each other with the middle and smallest holding a trophy. They all looked happy.

The photo fell over, startling Thomas who was analysing it. He pointed it out to Toby. They moved on after about a minute. The window nook rustled, causing a feeling of disturbance.

The boys moved out of the room, displeased by the disturbance of the warm atmosphere. Up the stairs and to the left was the masters. 

Inside were floral wallpaper and plants, somehow tended. A king-size bed was placed in the centre against the opposing wall to the door. To one side, was a nightstand holding a different framed picture and a salt lamp.

This picture was faced down, but when picked up, was the previous blonde man acting as a groom at a wedding. A gorgeous woman held his hand as sparklers lit up the night sky.

Why had this photo been put down was a question with no answer. Toby sat on the bed which was covered by plush green covers and white pillows. A group of three large windows showed the backyard, shining in light onto ivy’s and other plants.

A bookshelf was going across the windows, acting as plant shelves and book shelves. There were guides to gardening, parenting, British law, and lots of other types of books. The room gave off a warm and friendly vibe. Still, the air was stale.

The next room was after a bathroom that seemed pretty eerie. This new bedroom was the smallest. It had a guitar kept up by the corner of the walls, and a generous two small windows. One was placed over a corner bed, roughly made. The brown cover was bawled by the bed on the floor. There were posters of bands across the walls.

A case of records was placed by a bookcase carrying an electric record player. There was also a small safe decorated with stickers of sea creatures. The boys couldn’t get it to open, despite Thomas’s “master locksmith skills”. 

Toby decided to take the smallest and last room. Thomas took the pink room, fascinated by the swords and totally not the comfortable plushies.

That night’s rest, as they found, would not be as pleasant as hoped.

Toby twisted and turned, dreaming of water surrounding his cold corpse. He felt chilled. He felt ghostly. 

Thomas couldn’t go to sleep, hearing things bump in the night. A sword fell off the wallpaper, startling him awake once he finally found rest.

The two met under sunrise, feeling the chill of Autumn cover them. Toby and Thomas watched the sun from the front porch, as it rose over trees and a distant church tower. Outside, they found the sleep they had missed.


	2. Oᒪᗪ EYEᔕ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ѕeттlιng ιnтo a new нoмe нaѕ never вeen мore cнaoтιc.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about a stranger in his bedroom. He knew his brother wasn’t too keen on it. The curly haired brunette watched the small bubbly one; the blonde. 

Thomas was setting up a computer in Techno’s room. Wilbur smiled. Techno was going to throw a fit.

Toby brought in some scrambled eggs, sausage, and ham. The two of them worked together to get something called Twitch set up. Wilbur envied the breakfast on the desk. He went to grab some, but accidentally knocked the plate onto the floor.

“What was that?” Thomas turned to the eggs spilled over the carpet.

“Must not have set it down real nicely. I’ll grab the vacuum.”

Wilbur sighed, disappointed in himself. He knew he couldn’t eat, but he really wanted to try. Now, he felt bad. The two boys were picking up after him without even knowing.

Techno was sitting on his bed, tired eyes watching Wilbur watch the visitors. 

“What are you doing?” His hoarse voice gave out. He sounded as sick as when he died.

“Watching them,” Wilbur replied. “Aren’t you going to mess with them?”

“I did. They didn’t think anything of it. I messed with the annoying child in the night. He didn’t do anything about it. These kids are stubborn.”

“Where is Phil?” 

“Hello Twitch! Look! We have a new background!” The blonde started to scream causing the ghosts to jump back.

“What is he doing?” Wilbur watched the high quality computer process thousands of text boxes on one monitor and a bunch of cubes on the other.

“Playing some game, live.” Techno stood weakly, walking over with curiosity. They watched the text boxes.

/god the new background looks lame/  
/Is that a little girls room tommy?/

Techno felt his cold blood boil. Wilbur watched cautiously. These strangers had ticked off his brother and that was a mistake. Techno went to the dresser behind the webcam and knocked over his crown.

“This is royalty’s room. They should bow,” He growled. 

Chat started to freak out. The camera had picked up things moving and a ghostly figure. 

/tommy, what’s that?/  
/TOMMY BEHIND YOU/  
/This is dumb./

“Chat, there’s no one here. It’s just me and Tubbo... What did you see?” Thomas clicked into Streamlabs OBS and enlarged his webcam. Chat started sending clips of what they had seen.

He inspected the clip as he watched it, but just laughed.

“It’s an old house. Probably just light or draft...” He chuckled nervously. Wilbur worked on calming down Techno, running his fingers through the pink dyed hair. The scarred ghost rustled restlessly, picking up his crown and putting it back.

Wilbur braided the long hair, not being able to tie it, but just messing with it. The two sat on the soft pink bed as the streamer kid continued to yell and aggressively click his mouse. Toby, or Tubbo as he had called him, walked in and made an appearance, bringing him a coke and some food.


	3. ᗪᖇIᘔᘔᒪE Tᑌᖇᑎᔕ TO ᑭOᑌᖇ

Tubbo let the stream run through his fingers, not bothered by the chilled water. A small carp swam by him, lifting his heart a little.

"We're supposed to be fishing, not... whatever you're doing," Tommy scolded, laughing lightheartedly. Food at the small market just three miles from the house was expensive for them, so they had started to grow more than just flowers and learn how to forage. The forest was filled with all types of yummy plants, but the tricky part was knowing what was edible.

Tubbo had also hitched a job at the local bakery, improving his baking and social skills. The guy running it, George, was pretty lazy and laid back. Tubbo appreciated the money, but felt he did all the work. He felt he deserved a raise for making the food and handling the customers. Tubbo also designed a new logo for the company, but programmed a nice little website.

Tommy was enjoying simply being a Twitch streamer. He thinks the pink background had caused a chaotic change in chat, so he hung a cloth behind him. The thing was, everytime he put it up, something was taking it down. It usually happened on camera, like the one time he left to get a drink and he came back to candles lit, the cloth covering his panicking computer, and the chimes on the ceiling tinkling.

Things had started to get a little more rambunctious as of late. One morning, Tubbo woke to the smell of eggs and bacon. There was no one cooking, yet a plate was freshly made on the counter for the early bird along with a cup of tea. There have been a couple dawns where the smell of sickness wakes Tommy from restlessness or the sound of the kettle whistling startles them both to consciousness. 

Tommy nudged his friend. "Pick yourself up. I've got a bucket of... something. Hopefully enough to last a moment."

"What will we do for winter?"

"Ever heard of ice fishing?" Tommy laughed, picking up the bucket of sloshing fish and his fishing pole. 

The boys headed back to the rural home, walking through the backdoor. Something smelt sickly, again, as if something was rotting beneath the floorboards. It was a sickening smell that haunted them both, but came and went. Tubbo moved to the kitchen to light some candles. The dishes were washed and arranged in cabinets, but not in either of their systems. 

"Curious... Did you do this, Tubbo?" Tommy pulled out a plate, whipping out some leftover pizza from the previous night. 

"Heat me some, too, and no, I didn't. I've been with you the whole day, Tommy," He answered, trying to get the lighter to work. 

"Do we have someone living with us, you think? I mean, things don't just clean themselves."

"Maybe we have a ghost," Tubbo smiled, "Ooo!"

Tommy laughed, nervousness creeping into his voice. "No way. Ghosts aren't real, big man."

"We don't know that with certainty, small man--"

"Hey! I'm younger by very little time, so, um, hush, bitch!"

Tubbo smiled, grabbing the plate from the microwave. Tommy sat down with his.

"What do we do with the fish now?"

"Good question," Tommy stared at the bucket moving slightly.

"To Google!" Tubbo bit into the hot pizza, "Gah!"

The blonde laughed, biting into his own slice before wincing. "God damnit!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but couldn't think of much to write :)


	4. TᖇᗩITOᖇ

It was called The Beehive. The bakery Tubbo practically owned. 

He ran the flour into the oven, ready to make some cookie dough. George snoozed off at the register. Such a slow day, beside it being the holidays. People seem to be busier buying worthless plastic toys or the newest phone. Tubbo would rather be somewhere else, right now.

He’d rather be with Tommy, or cleaning the house. He’d rather be streaming. One week until Christmas, well, five days, and school was out. The author isn’t sure how British schools work, if it’s structured like Australian or American. So, it’s just out. 

The front door’s bell chimed, bringing a forced smile and a stop to George’s snoring.

“Welcome to The Beehive! What can I do for you?” Tubbo waved, pulling the flour out of the oven, and a set of cakes out of the blast chiller. He set himself by the counter where a scarred, dirty blonde chuckled.

“Could you make red velvet cupcakes? Just... two.” He held a bouquet of white and red roses, thorns trimmed.

“Of course. Frosting?”

“Cream cheese on one, white buttercream on the other.”

Tubbo clicked some buttons on the computer system, looking up. “That’ll be 11.36.”

He fiddled with strange bills, “I don’t have very many Euro. Do you accept American banks?”

“If it’s Visa, we’ll take it.” Tubbo’s jaw hurt from forcing the smile. This guy was kind of pissing him off.

“Okay,” The man reached out a card, scratching at his freckles.

“Clay? I’ll need you to put in your pin—“

“Yes.” 

He cut him off. Tommy was going to love this story.

“I’ll have them done shortly. Would you like me to call you when I’m finished?”

Clay rubbed his cheek where he had been scratching. “I can just stay in here. Only in town for one reason.”

“Oh okay. I’ll be done in about thirty minutes,” Tubbo waved, backing away from the counter.

////

Last sweep of dirt into the dust pan and Tubbo was done for the day. George had taken the money to the bank, telling him to head off. Tubbo would rather clean now then wait tomorrow.

The door chimed then clicked as he left and locked. The gravel crunched beneath his tennis shoes as he reached the mahogany front door. The red brick side to side, lined with a chipped white wooden banister.

He heard voices inside. 

Ready to throw a couple weak punches, he softly opened the door. Tommy was sitting on the couch with Clay and someone else. The someone else went away as soon as he blinked, so he may have imagined it.

“Clay...? Tommy, what’s he—“

“Tubbo!! You already know Dream? Or... Did you call him Clay?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“He’s come to visit an old friend that passed away,” Tommy stood hugging Tubbo and showing that the two cupcakes, one iced with ‘TB’, the other with ‘D’. They were on a platter. Next to the plate was the bouquet.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Dream or Clay stood up as well, picking up the flowers. “Tommy here wanted your permission first. May I see the backyard?”

////

Under a shady spot beneath the trees, lay two headstones they hadn’t seen before. Well. Suppose they were headstones. They were just rather large rocks on a hill beneath a tree. One engraved with ‘Wilbur’ and the other with ‘TB’.

“Is this him?” Tubbo sat by the second stone. Dream nodded, laying down the roses and cream cheese cake. He bit into the other.

The wind howled, pulling down the green hoodie that Dream wore to hide his face. 

Tubbo ran to the house, leaving Tommy and Dream alone. He came back with a small black box and a radio. 

“Here.”

“A... spirit box?”

“Yeah. We’ve been trying to communicate with whoever once lived here. You may have more luck.”

Dream took the box, turning on a button and yelling. Tommy and Tubbo laughed together at his surprise that they once had.

Whispers of words flew by the machine, one sounding like “Dream?”.

The voice that talked was musky and monotone. Very deep.

“Is that you, Techno?”

“I thought his name was Terrance?” Tommy whispered to Tubbo.

Who whispered back. “That’s what I read.”

“Friend.” The deep voice, presumably Techno, said.

“I’m still your friend? I’m glad.”

“No. Leave.” The voice moved in and out of the static.

“Go.” Said another one. A British accent, light. It seemed to be hostile. Wind moved dead leaves off the chilled branches, down into Dream’s face.

The static grew, words being thrown indistinguishably left and right. Tommy ran to the box, clicking the off button. He looked towards Dream.

“You aren’t wanted.” Tommy panted, confused.

“What did you do?” Tubbo sighed, watching Dream head past the side of the house. The cakes lie side by side on the hill, one half eaten. Suddenly, wind rolled it down into the stream. The water carried it away.


	5. TᕼEᖇE'ᔕ ᗩ ᖇEᗩᔕOᑎ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sunday fun day

Tubbo moved the dishes swiftly from the drying rack to the cabinets. The house was a little too old, so they had to hand wash the dishes themselves. Today, it was Tubbo’s chore. Tommy is currently in the lounge decided dinner for the boys.

“How’s it going, Tommy?” Tubbo dried his hands, sliding the towel onto the countertop.

“I don’t know,” He pulled out the o in know, whining with his head thrown back. “Can we just order pizza?”

“I don’t think they deliver this far out,” Ploppingn onto the couch softly, he pulled out his phone. “Didn’t that Dream guy sound familiar?”

“You’re still on about this? It’s been a month, Tubs.”

“I know how long it’s been, it was just so peculiar. I don’t know. You stream Minecraft more than I do. Doesn’t he sound like that other Dream guy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really watch Dream or play with him. He doesn’t really upload videos, so it’s kind of boring.” (Not my opinion, please don’t fight me).

He grabbed his bee plushie from the corner of the couch, laying down with his legs on Tommy’s lap.

“Get your filthy legs off me!” The blonde shrieked.

“No.”

“I ordered pizza.”

“What?!” The sudden inhale caused him to choke. “They deliver out here?”

“Oui.”

////

Sunday.

They had left the pizza in the fridge overnight, but found a couple missing slices in the morning. They assumed one of them had just been sleepy and hungry, and didn’t remember.

Tubbo collected the devices from the spare room, and followed the schedule they usually did on Sunday mornings.

Tubbo would go around, and investigate the upstairs bathroom. He took the upper floor.

Tommy took the lower floor and garden.

Then, they met at the burial tree.

First of order, Tubbo in his room. He has the spirit box laid out in the bed where he sat, and an energy ready in his off hand. He wasn’t the one to use the Ouija board.

First three hours, there was nothing, then a light strum on the guitar.

“Hi, Will.”

“—bur.” Something spoke through the spirit box.

“Sorry. You want to be called Wilbur? I’m just going off of the articles,” He laughed nervously, still not used to this.

Wilbur tended to be the quietest ghost, sometimes sobbing sending out waves of emotion, or give little chuckles in response to conversation.

“How’s the weather in the astral plane?” 

“Cold.”

“I bet...” Another few minutes went by before:

“Tub.”

“Did you say my name, Wilbur?” He jumped off of the bed, falling onto the floor. Tommy called from downstairs to make sure he was okay, and he was. Just really excited. None of the ghosts had said the boy’s names before.

“Sing?” Wilbur requested, strumming a couple more chords shyly.

“I don’t really know many songs...”

“Lie. You play.” The static broke up the last couple words.

“Ukulele? Yeah,” Tubbo smiled, “I do. I was going to go to the bathroom next—“

“No.”  
“Don’t.”  
“Stay out.”

“Wilbur?”

“Sad.”  
“Cold.”

“It’s okay. I won’t go there, then.”

“Thank you, Tub.”

Tubbo adjusted himself on the bed, nervously grabbing his ukulele from beside the bed.

“Requests? Actually, I’ve been learning something...”

The music softly echoed throughout the room, starting high then going low.

“Wasting your time.”  
“You’re wasting mine.” His voice was so unsteady. He hasn’t done this in front of anyone before. It helped not being able to see Wilbur.

/

Wilbur stared, mesmerised by the idea of another person singing his lyrics. He wondered if Tubbo knew how he felt when he wrote them.

“I hate to see you leaving.”  
“A fate worse than dying.”

The static from the dumb spirit box was so bothersome, but he found himself tuning it out.

“Your city gave me asthma.”  
“So that’s why I’m fucking leaving.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t so cold. The pit in his stomach seemed to loosen.

“And your water gave me cancer.”   
“And the pavement hurt my feelings.”

He softly sung along, but not enough for the box to pick it up.

“Shout at the wall.”  
“‘Cause the walls don’t fucking love you.”

Tubbo noticed a soft singing from the box, but continued on.

“Shout at the wall.”  
“‘Cause the walls don’t fucking love you.”

The strumming perked something up inside of Wilbur. Philza watched from the open doorway.

“There’s a reason! That London puts barriers on the tube-line!” They harmonised to the harsh strumming.

“There’s a reason! That London puts barriers on the rails.”  
“There’s a reason, that London puts barriers on the tube line.”  
“There’s a reason, that London puts barriers on the rails.”  
“There’s a reason, that London puts barriers on the tube line!”

“There’s a reason,” Tubbo stopped at Wilbur continued, “That they fail.”

“Why did you write that?”

Wilbur was stunned with confusion. “Pardon?”

“Why would you... How did you die, Wilbur?”

////

“Why are you crying? And we’re you having a jam session with Will up there?” Tommy laughed, half joking as he pulled the Ouija board and divination materials out of the closet.

“Wilbur got emotional. I asked him the wrong thing,” Tubbo chuckled, setting the spirit box and energy reader onto the pink bed. He had expected for Tommy to redecorate the soft pink bedroom, but he seemed comfortable.

“Oh. You spoke with him? Will-bur?”

“Yeah, I did,” He sat apple sauce on the large bed, under the dreamcatchers.

“Do you need to rest?” Tommy hugged his friend. 

“I think so, yeah.”


End file.
